


SCP Foundation meets the Horsemen

by ladydragonqueenofthemoths



Category: SCP Foundation
Genre: Gen, Idk what I’m doing, Part one of who in the world knows, Reference to SCP-4231, There’s a quick sudden human combustion it’s not graphic but I would rather be safe than sorry, first fic, there will be mistakes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:47:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27124048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydragonqueenofthemoths/pseuds/ladydragonqueenofthemoths
Summary: While interviewing a recent SCP the staff meet two of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, War and Death. Join Staff as they meet the rest of the Horsemen and learn of the people they share a body with. I am garbo at summaries guys. Enjoy. I’m sorry in advance if anyone is OOC.
Relationships: Dr. Alto Clef/Dr. Benjamin Kondraki
Kudos: 15





	1. First Encounter

“What happened in there, Clef?” Bright questioned the other. The O5 had decided to have Clef in the room during the interview with SCP-5923-A, she seemed to fight with everyone who came into contact with her. Knowing the effect Clef had on ladies they had him go in with the next set of doctors. To their surprise she didn’t recoil, but her right eye did turn a deep red.

“Hey, toots, what's with your eye?” Clef had asked. No response, only a stoic face. The doctor walked closer and stood next SCP-5923. He leaned in, getting close to SCP-5923-A’s face. 5923-A turned and looked back at Clef. The staff made no move to intervene as the two stared at each other for what felt like hours. 5923-A could smell the cigarettes and booze on the man’s breath, but otherwise seemed unfazed by him. That was when it happened. The table that put some distance between the psychiatrist and SCP-5923 began to shake until it was finally thrown to the side shattering. Staff initially jumped in fear, while Clef watched, curious about what 5923-A thought she was gonna do. Said SCP rose to her feet walking over to the only door as she began to pound on it.  
“Out! Now!” The surprisingly masculine sounding voice demanded with each strike against the door. Upon seeing that hitting the door wasn’t working, 5923-A began ramming their body into the door. Almost methodically, the individual would walk back to a halfway point between the door and Dr. Clef before charging at the door with all the force their body had. 5923-A backed up again and saw the door opened. Both Dr. Kondraki and Dr. Gears blocked the exit, though that didn’t seem to faze 5923-A. They crossed their arms over their chest as their fingers curled slightly. In a fluid motion they uncrossed their arms and fire manifested.  
“I don’t want ta hurt ya, Kondraki.” They spoke, taking the giant of a man by surprise. Most SCPs when trying to break containment didn’t care who died, so long as they could escape. But this one merely stood where they were looking between Clef and the two scientists at the door, still agitated, yet reserved. One of the staff made a move to approach but was thrown by an invisible force into the wall. “Don’t fuckin’ touch me!” He snarled at the staff, being more hostile to the Foundation’s staff than the scientists who he was in the middle of. Dr. Kondraki moved first, walking into the room as Dr. Gears shut the door behind him.  
“How do you know my name?” Kondraki asked, noticing the flames engulfing their arms were slowly dying down.  
“We need ta get out of here. We can’t stay.” Was the reply. “We aren’t a t’reat ta ya- STAY BACK! I’ll fuckin’ turn ya inta a coat, ya bastard!” They threatened another approaching staff member. They hurled a fireball at the staff member, but missed, hitting the wall. It was an intentional miss, a warning shot. “I won’t miss next time.” They replied. But the flames extinguished and they collapsed to the ground with an unceremonious thud.

Clef shrugged his shoulders. “Beats me.” He replied, taking a swig of coffee.  
“How’d they know my name? Did you say anything about me to them?”  
“Your name came up about zero times.”  
“Doctors.” One of the staff approached.  
“What?” Kondraki asked.  
“SCP-5923-A is not letting anyone near them. They keep threatening to turn people into coats or gutting them.”  
“And?” Clef asked.  
“They seemed to be okay with you two, that is to say that they don’t threaten you. … So we were thinking maybe… one of you could try talking to them?” Kondraki pinches the bridge of his nose.  
“I’ll talk with them, Clef.”  
“Works for me.” The shorter man shrugged. 

That was how Kondraki found himself sitting next to an agent and another psychiatrist and across from SCP-5923-A.  
“5923-A…” Kondraki started.  
“Luaran.”  
“What?”  
“I am Luaran, companion of Mindtrancer, guardian of the plains.” They spoke.  
“Luaran? Interesting name. Malaysian?”  
“Nae in this instance, it’s Elvish fer “Light King”.” Luaran replied.  
“So, about earlier-”  
“I’m nae talkin’ about it. I’m nae some animal fer ya ta tes’ and study, contrary ta wha’ ya humans think about us.”  
“So you aren’t human? What are you then?”  
“I am Luaran, companion of Mindtrancer, guardian of the plains.” He replied.  
“What are you?” The agent asked, leaning forward. Luaran repeated himself. The agent rose to his feet, slamming Luaran into the table. “Answer the fucking question!” The agent yelled as he pressed Luaran’s upper body into the table. Kondranki let out an annoyed sigh. He observed Luaran, noting how he was trying to push the agent off of him. The agent continued to put his full weight on Luaran who’s struggling started becoming more frantic and desperate. “Answer the question, 5923!” The agent demanded again. Luaran continued to struggle as his eyes appeared to start to glaze over. The agent leaned down and whispered something in Luaran’s ear. The smaller man’s body seemed to freeze up a moment.  
“Get off me. GET OFF!” The agent was sent flying back by an invisible force. “Keep yer fuckin’ hands off me, mortal scum!” He snarled. He turned to face Kondraki and the psychiatrist. “Luaran?” Kondraki spoke, he knew a flashback when he saw one. He also noticed that his right eye turned black. The smaller man clutched his head with gloved hands. “Hnnnngh I’m okay I’m okay, I’mokay I’m- - okay, I’m okay, it’s okay - - I survived, it’s okay, it’s- - hhhh- hnnn, God I don’t - - I don’t- - I didn’t hhhgh, I’m - - they aren’t here, they can’t hurt ya.” Luaran began to back himself into the wall as he slid to the ground. Panicked muttering is all that’s heard from him. The agent rose to his feet again, angered by what just happened.  
“Stupid bastard!” The agent started approaching when an Eldritch appeared in front of the agent. Both Kondraki and the psychiatrist rose to their feet. The psychiatrist backed away to the other side of the room. Kondraki looked over to Luaran who remained crouched and terrified, seemingly oblivious to what was happening.  
“Is he doing this?” The psychiatrist asked. Kondraki was about to answer when the Eldritch suddenly disappeared. Luaran’s appearance fully changed; his long sandy brown hair was now a deep blood red and tied back, all his skin that was visible became covered in more scars. The clothes he wore changed to that of a Jacobite Highlander. Any form of panic or fear now gone, replaced with an eerily calm presence. Luaran turned his head and looked to Kondraki and the Psychiatrist again.  
“Y’are fortunate my vessel seems ta like ya, Doctor. Yer colleague however is nae so lucky.” He spoke.  
“Luaran-“  
“I am nae Luaran! I am the Red Horseman, War!” He yelled as a claymore manifested in his hand. War turned to face the agent. “Ya hae t’reatened the wrong person.” War rose his blade and slashed it diagonally in the air. The two watched wondering what War did. Their question was answered when the agent suddenly combusted. War turned his attention back to Kondraki. “In exchange fer answers ta some of yer questions ya will take me ta my sibling’s vessel.”  
“W-We can’t do that.” The psychiatrist stammered.  
“Understand I do nae share the information because I hae ta. I give because I want ta. But if ya want ta play games wit’ me,” War poofed from where he stood to in front of Kondraki, “I guess I can indulge ya.”  
“I will not be intimidated into doing anything.” Kondraki spoke. War clicked his tongue and shrugged his shoulders.  
“Games it is.” War spoke before looking at the camera in the room, “Catch me if ya can.” He placed two fingers in his mouth and whistled before a large red horse appeared. With ease War mounted the beast and disappeared through the wall.  
“Son of a bitch!” Kondraki made his way to the door as the alarm went off for the containment breach.  
“Attention! All personnel. SCP-5923-A and B have escaped containment. They- wait, what are you doing? Get back!”  
“Nope, mine, now. Ya los’ yer talkin’ privileges.” A feminine voice spoke, “Hi, aye, so can the whitecoats, Clef and Kondraki come down here… or jus’ one of ya? Clef’s preferred but, meh.” The voice continued. 

“What’s the plan?” Kondraki questioned Clef.  
“Ya can start by comin’ in, it’s jus’ us and whoever it is we jus’ knocked out.” The door opened on it’s own and there stood War and female figure. Long deathly pale hair that came to her lower thighs, two pairs of black angelic wings, four ram-like horns jutted out from the sides of her head, her clothes were an extravagant suit and a pair of leather shoes and gloves, over a corset with a belt. Atop her head was a small veiled top hat, and around her neck a choker. She wore skull earrings, skull brooch, and a dragon and Cerberus ring, the entire ensemble coordinated in black and silver, her eyes covered by a crimson red silk blindfold. She stood the same height as War. No doubt this was SCP-5923-B.  
“And who might you be, babe?” Clef smirked.  
“The Pale Horseman. Tha’ the whitecoat ya were talkin’ about, War?” She spoke as she looked at Clef, just like War’s vessel, she didn’t recoil.  
“Aye.”  
“Excellent, let’s get this over wit’ I hae shit ta do. Y’are the whitecoats who wanted ta ask us questions, aye?”  
“The Foundation wou-“ Kondraki started.  
“The Foundation can eat my ass. She didn’t ask if they wanted to ask us questions, she asked if ya two were the ones who wanted to question us.” War interrupted stepping closer to Kondraki, “Now I’ll ask ya. Are. Ya. The. Whitecoats. Who. Wanted. Ta. Ask. Us. Questions?” Kondraki looked at both Horsemen, unamused.  
“Yes, we are. Because you seem to only want to talk to us.” Kondraki said after a short while.  
“Y’are the only ones our vessels trus’s.” War replied.  
“You trust Dr. Alto Clef?”  
“He hides behind veils of lies fer personal reasons. We know them.” War shrugged nonchalantly. Clef tensed at this, putting a hand over his gun.  
“Our vessels hae no interes’ in sharin’ wha’ we know wit’ anyone else and we know wha’ the Foundation knows, so it’s nae like they’d get new information. Yer business is yer own.” Death spoke waving off the former GOC agent.  
“So are we doin’ this or aren’t we?” War questioned, “Like Deat’ said we hae shit ta do.”  
“Like what?” Kondraki questioned.  
“Well befere yer coworkers so rudely interrupted them our vessels were huntin’.”  
“You know we can’t allow you to just eat people right?” Kondraki spoke.  
“Who said anythin’ about eatin’?” War inquired.  
“Then what were you doing?” Clef questioned.  
“Destroy all tha’ which is evil.” War started.  
“So tha’ all which is good shall flourish.” Death finished.  
“At leas’ tha’s our vessels’s train of thought.” War added. To both horsemen religion, material things and the like meant nothing to them. They were harbingers of death, but it meant something to their current vessels and to an extent they did care for them as they did with every host they inhabited. Kondraki took out a cigarette and lit it, offering one to Clef. The shorter man shook his head for now.  
“So hypothetically speaking had we not apprehended you two, what would you have done?” Kondraki asked, taking a drag.  
“Eliminated our targets and went home.” Death answered.  
“And the bodies?” Clef inquired.  
“Nae our problem, they’re fer yer police ta find.” War answered.  
“Wha’ they or anyone t’inks happened is nae our problem eit’er.” Death answered.  
“So you just go around assassinating people you deem evil?”  
“Oh don’t be ridiculous. Our vessels hunt down criminals.” War laughed.  
“And you don’t see anything wrong with that?” Kondraki questioned.  
“I’m Deat’, he’s War. We’re the literal Horsemen of the Apocalypse. If we cared about such trivial thin’s we would be one of the Virtues.”  
“Now if ya’ll bot’ excuse us, we have two serial killers ta hunt down.” War stepped to walk past the two but was met with a gun and sword. “Are we seriously goin’ ta continue this game?”  
“We can’t just let you run rampant killing whoever you deem evil.” Kondraki spoke. War cackled.  
“This, comin’ from the man tha’ wasted tons of resources ta ride SCP-682?” Kondraki studied the Red Horseman. “My vessel looked inta his head,” War pointed at Clef, “everythin’ he has trapped up in tha’ skull of his is wit’ us as well.”  
“Bit invasive don’t you think?” Clef questioned.  
“The Foundation is a bit invasive, don’t ya t’ink?” War countered.  
“Protect is in our title.” Kondraki answered.  
“Who were ya protectin’ when it came ta SCP-4231-B?” Death questioned as she turned her head to the shorter of the two scientists.  
“You’re treading in very dangerous territory, sugar tits.” Clef aimed his gun to Pale Horseman  
“And I heard a voice in the midst of the four beasts. And I looked, and behold a pale horse. And his name tha’ sat on him was deat’, and hell followed wit’ him” Death answered.  
“Tell us we’re wrong, Alto,” War spoke, “tell us how wha’ the Foundation did ta ya was fer the betterment of humanity.” A gunshot rang through the room, but both Horsemen were unharmed. The only proof the gun had been fired was the indentation in War’s palm. The Red Horseman turned to the taller of the two. “Would ya like ta try a hand at figh’in’ me Kondraki?” War summoned his sword.  
“Who said I was finished with you?!” Clef questioned as he raised his gun.  
“Two on one? Seems a bit unfair fer ya two doesn’t it?” War smirked, holding the blade close to his right, “Let’s dance boys.” 

The next time either scientist woke, they found themselves in the infirmary, much to Dr. Kondraki’s dismay.  
“Dr. Clef, Dr. Kondraki, good to see you’re finally awake.” One of the doctors spoke.  
“What the hell happened? Last thing I remember is fighting that skip.” Clef looked over to Kondraki who for the most part was keeping it together, but the sooner he could get out the better.  
“The SCP that called himself War knocked you both unconscious.” Gears answered.  
“Other than that you two weren’t injured. You’re clear to go in a few minutes.” One of the doctors explained, handing Kondraki a cup of coffee. The man took the drink before looking at Clef.  
“We’ll get them back.” The former GOC spoke.


	2. It is Wednesday my Dudes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kondraki gets to hold an interview with Death

Working for the Foundation made it that you pretty much expected the unexpected… however that didn’t mean that Kondraki was expecting to find Death in his kitchen making coffee. She looked the same as when he first saw her. The Pale Horseman turned to face him.   
“So don’t freak out.” She spoke, pouring him a cup. He stared at it, apprehensively. “It won’t kill ya if tha’s wha’ yer worried about. It’s yer own blend.” Death added before sitting at the table. “And please, hear me out befere ya go and get the Foundation here.”   
“Last time I was in a room with you I ended up in the hospital-”  
“Las’ time ya and Dr. Clef challenged War itself. I would hope ya wouldn’t make the same foolish decision again, but given wha’ we know…” She poured herself a cup before manifesting some creamer. “Bold of ya ta assume I drink coffee black.” Death looked at Kondraki. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.  
“How about you answer the questions War chose not to answer and depending on how you answer I won’t get the Foundation involved?”  
“I mean, I get the feelin’ y’all call ‘em regardless, but we did agree ta answer questions.” She answered, taking a sip of her creamer coffee. Kondraki sat down across from Death and pulled out a tape recorder, hitting the record button.  
“Ya jus’ carry tha’ around wit’ ya?”  
“Never know.” He replied.   
“Fair enough, proceed wit’ your questions, Kondraki.”  
“For the record, state your name and species.”  
“I am the Pale Horseman, Death.”  
“And the person you possess?”  
“If she wants ta talk wit’ ya and answer yer questions they will. Y’are interviewin’ me, Doctor, keep tha’ in mind.”   
“Very well, how old are you?” Kondraki took a sip of his coffee. She wasn’t lying, it was his coffee.   
“Old enough.”   
“If you had to put a number on it?” Death seemed to think about that for a minute.   
“Couple hundred eons give or take. I am Death after all.”   
“I expected you to have more bones given the media’s depiction of you.”  
“The media also depicts Christ as a long haired white male.” Death chuckled.   
“Why did you come here of all places?”  
“Can’t find my siblin’s. Idiots got themselves eit’er los’ or captured by ya lot.”  
“And how many siblings do you have?”  
“Apocalypse wise four, outside of tha’ five. Headless was adopted. Still the oldes’ out of us all, which is funny all t’in’s considered.”  
“I’m sorry, Headless?”  
“Aye, like from ‘The Legend of Sleepy Hollow’. The Headless Horseman.” Death took another sip of her creamer coffee and Kondraki drank his. 

“Back to you, can you see through the blindfold?”  
“Aye, it’s more fer yer sake than mine.”  
“How’s that?” Death turned her head to look in the direction of one of the house plants. She removed the red blindfold and stared at it, Kondraki looked over at the house plant and watched as it began to shrivel up and wilt. She replaced the blindfold and turned back to Kondraki.   
“It can still be revived, so long as ya give it attention. Ot’erwise I’ll jus’ take it later.” Death shrugged.   
“So is that why you wear gloves too?”  
“Aye, everyt’in’ I touch wit’ my bare hands has the chance of dyin’.”  
“And this doesn’t upset you?”  
“As a kid, aye. Then I grew up.” Kondraki smirked at the idea of what Death looked like as a child.  
“Is this the only body you’ve taken?”  
“No and hers won’t be the las’. I’ve shared many bodies over the eons, but she is the firs’ chosen one ta hae been a child when we met.”  
“How old was she?”  
“Ten in human years.” She answered.  
“So only some people are chosen to be your avatar?”  
“Aye, those who are nae die within a day of puttin’ on my choker.”  
“Interesting fail safe, can it be removed?”   
“Only if my current vessel dies. And tha’ won’t happen fer a while.”   
“How are you so sure?”  
“Necroscience. One of the many abilities I possess.”  
“And what abilities do you possess?”  
“Tha’s fer another time, dear Kondraki.”  
“What are you talking about?” Kondraki questioned before he felt it. He looked to his coffee before turning to Death with panicked eyes, “What did you do?!”  
“Jus’ a sleepin’ agent. My own personal blend. It’s harmless, jus’ makes ya sleep. I only stated it wouldn’t kill ya.” Death spoke before getting up and dialing the phone. “Get over here now.” He heard his voice say, but he never spoke them, it was Death. Why was she calling someone? Who was she calling? How did she know he was so panicked? “Dr. Clef should be here in a bit, hold tigh’. Jus’ sleep.” At least he knew who she called. Kondraki fought to stay awake as he glared daggers at the Pale Horseman. It wasn’t long before his world went black. 

The next time Kondraki woke up Clef was standing over him.  
“Death, where is she?!” He questioned looking around the room.  
“What are you talking about, Konny?” Clef asked.   
“She was here. I talked with her.”  
“Well she’s not here now. You interview her?”  
“Yeah, until I passed out.” Kondraki looked for his tape recorder but found it was gone. “Damnit!” Neither man spoke but it was agreed upon; they’d get her. They’d get all of them.


	3. Hey Fools! The Bois are Here!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Pale Horsemen has been contained again, or more so her vessel along with Headless’s vessel, in comes the remaining four to break them out.

Had the Foundation known all it took to contain SCP-5923-B was Professor Crow they would have sent him out long ago. However, the moment they contained the SCP again she seemed to want nothing to do with most of the scientists. 

“We can’t let Clef and Kondraki in.” One of the doctors spoke.   
“Who are we going to have interview her then?”  
“Literally anyone else.”  
“Okay how about Dr. Gears? Or Dr. Bright even?”  
“Let’s have Dr. Gears do the questioning. He can keep a calm objective.” 

This was how Dr. Gears found himself sitting across from SCP-5923-B. Her file stated that SCP-5923-B was a pale female of Irish and Scottish descent in her early twenties who stood at 158 cm (5’2”) and weighed 46 kg (101 lbs). Her eye color appeared to fluctuate, however they were unable to decipher what the colors meant, and her hair was short and black. She dressed in a white tunic and kilt that belonged to the MacCrimmon Clan. She didn’t wear the footwear she had on when Kain found her. They were next to the bed. Kondraki’s tape recorder wasn’t on her person.  
“For the record please state your species.”  
“Ya should know wha’ I am, human.” SCP-5923-B spoke for the first time since recointainment.   
“Let’s say that I do not know what you are.” Gears spoke. SCP-5923-B let out a small sigh.   
“Like I’m gonna tell ya whitecoats anyth’in’.”  
“I cannot force you to talk as that did not go over well for the agent who was interviewing your sibling last time.”  
“Bas’ard had it comin’.” She replied as she leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms over her chest.   
“He had a family.” Gears replied, not that he inherently cared about the guy. The agent was a dick anyway, but he wanted to see her reaction to this.   
“Should hae been t’inkin’ about his family when he t’reatened my brother.” She countered. Gears silently wrote something down before getting up.   
“Well when you feel like talking you may ask one of the guards to call me.” He nodded to the woman before walking away, the guards following after to stand outside the door.   
“Did she tell you anything?” Dr. Bright inquired.   
“Not yet. Give it time. Perhaps we should include Professor Kain next time?”  
“He was able to assist in containing her, maybe he can get her to talk.” One of the guards spoke.   
“Attention! All personnel! We’ve been infiltrated! All available MTFs to the Apollyon Sector! Repeat, we’re being infiltrated! All available MTFs to the Apollyon Sector!”   
“Who would be stupid enough to try to break in here besides the Serpent’s Hand?” Dr. Bright questioned. 

Up in the Euclid section of the site stood four males making their way deeper into the facility. They were greeted by MTF Delta-34.   
“You?!” Goodman raised his gun to the familiar face of Luaran. He’d read the incident report regarding this skip and Agent Durham’s brother. He wasn’t going to let ”War” have a chance to appear again.  
“Hands of Fire!” The one with dirty blond hair aimed his hands at Goodman as a pair of flamed hands charged at him. The group scattered as the flames hit the wall. A shorter red haired man lumbered forward, whispering something to the others. They nodded before Luaran stepped forward and raised his hands. Without a word a clearish white wall of sorts appeared around them. The red head opened his mouth and began chanting. The task force opened fire at the four in an attempt to break the barrier Luaran had set up.   
“We need to move closer.” Goodman heard one of his teammates said. He looked over and saw Reyla taking out a baton and charging at the small group. The others held their fire.   
“Reyla no!” Another called.   
“Lower your shield, Luaran, ready an instrument. Acidic Shield!” The brunet ordered. The shield was replaced with what would have been seen as nothing if Reyla’s baton didn’t dissolve instantly. Goodman watched as an ocarina appeared in Luaran’s hands, he put the instrument to his mouth and immediately began playing in tune with the red head’s chanting. MTF Delta-34 soon fell into a trance-like state before they collapsed, all except for Goodman. He looked around his group as the four approached him, whatever shield that was up now gone. He wanted to raise his gun, to shoot any of them. Yet he found himself unable to do anything. The dirty blond spoke first.  
“Where are you keeping Ichabod Fenrir and Zartari?” He questioned.   
“I don’t know who they are.” He answered. It was partially true; he knew SCP-5936 called himself Ichabod, but he didn’t know who Zartari was.  
“You know her as SCP-5923-B. You will take us to them both or your team’s lives are forfeit.”   
“... Fine.”   
“Smart decision. Get walking.” The blond ordered. Goodman felt himself rise to his feet, turning in the direction of SCP-5936’s containment cell. Goodman watched as a shield went up again. He couldn’t tell what it was, enchanted by the music he heard. 

They made it to Ichabod’s room with little to no resistance, each Task Force falling asleep to the red head’s song.   
“Open the door.” The blond ordered. Goodman opened the door to reveal a thin, brown man standing at 190.5 cm (6’3”) with medium length goldish brown hair and blue eyes. He was dressed in a pair of gray sweatpants, a medium pastel pink t-shirt that said ‘Hug Dealer’ on it though it was baggy on him, and a pair of slip on sandals. He looked to the four other males with a smile.  
“Hey, it’s about time you showed up here. Let’s go find your sister.” He heard Ichabod say.  
“Go to sleep.” The blond commanded, Goodman felt his eyes shut and his world went black.

“Goodman. Goodman!” He felt someone slapping his face. His eyes snapped open and he was met with one of his teammates kneeling over him.  
“Rawlings what happened?”  
“SCP-5936 escaped with SCP-5923-A and three other male skips. They’re making their way to SCP-5923-B now.” Rawlings explained as she handed him a pair of earbuds. “To block out the music.” Goodman took them and placed them in his ears.

In the Apollyon Sector the five men made their way down to SCP-5923-B’s containment cell. They were met with Doctors Bright, Kondraki, Clef, and Gears.  
“You have something that’s not yours.” The brunet spoke.  
“All we want is his sister and we’ll be out of your hair.” The blond spoke.  
“Not happening skips.” Clef replied with his gun raised.   
“Look dudes, you’ve, like, seen what Luaran and Zartari can do on their own, imagine what we can, like, all do to you.”  
“If the only thing you have in your arsenal is a song and an angry gremlin you might want to rethink your strategy.”  
“They never learn, do they?” The dirty blond asked Luaran. The smaller man shrugged.   
“Save me from this deadly migh’, so I’m nae seen in their sight. Fer it has never been their righ’, ta see me in the pale moonlight. Hear my nigh’, hear my call. Hear my plea and hide us all.” The room went pitch black.  
“This is most unfortunate.” Gears spoke. Clef immediately began to laugh.   
“You think this parlor trick is gonna work against me?” He waited for his eyes to adjust.   
“Nae at all, I know ya Alto. More than I’m sure ya’d care fer.” Luaran was right in front of him. “I jus’ want my sister back, Clef.”  
“Not happening, darling.” Clef smirked.  
“I don’t want ta hurt ya.”  
“Unfortunate for you then.” Clef aimed his gun at the other. Luaran grabbed the muzzle with his left hand as Clef pulled the trigger. The bullet embedded in his palm. “Fuck.”  
Luaran grabbed Clef by his shoulders and drove his upper leg into the older man’s stomach, knocking the wind out of him before shoving him away with that same invisible force he’d used on the staff prior. Then he felt something hit him. A dart found its way in his arm. Panic rose as the drug began to work. The darkness left, and they were surrounded.  
“What’s the plan, Luaran?” Ichabod asked, his hands raised.   
“Bind.” Was all Luaran could say before he let out a draconic shriek as he fell to his hands and knees. His fingers curled as his body began to twist and contort.   
“Hold your fire.” Kondraki spoke as he watched Luaran.   
“Sir, what if he becomes War?”  
“He can’t.” The dirty blond spoke.  
“Oh shit is he going feral?” Ichabod looked over at Luaran who was now covered in white scales, a set of horns began to sprout from the corners of his forehead as a blade tipped tail and angelic like wings appeared from behind. Both his hands and feet become clawlike. Luaran rose to his feet and roar in the direction of the others.   
“Shit, now look what you’ve done!” The brunet yelled.   
“Don’t worry dudes, I’ve, like got this… and he’s run off.” 

The remaining four were contained, while the search for Luaran began.   
“Where could he be?” One of the agents asked as they followed after Kondraki and Gears. When the search began it was made clear Kondraki and Clef would be occupied for the safety of the SCP and in case the SCP had to be eliminated someone could back them.   
“What if he escaped? Left his buddies to rot?” Another mused.   
“Which is why Bright and Iceberg are out looking for him with MTF Delta-34.” Kondraki spoke. Movement was seen up ahead, the group stopped for a moment.  
“Come on out Luaran.” One of the agents spoke.   
“Luaran?”  
“Dr. Glass?” Gears called out.  
“Glass, what are you doing here?” Kondraki inquired.   
“Um, well, I think SCP-5923-A is in my office… sleeping in my closet to be exact.”   
“You think?”  
“Well it looks like a dragon kinda.”  
“White scales?” Glass nodded.   
“That is Luaran.” Gears replied, “His colleagues stated that even asleep he will be combative.”  
“Well what the hell do we do?” An agent inquired.   
“What if you used SCP-999 as a go between? He hangs onto Luaran and then you guys take him to his containment cell?” Glass suggested. The group was silent for a moment.   
“... Bring SCP-999 to Glass’s office.” Kondraki sighed after a few minutes. 

Kondraki, Gears, and 999 stood outside of Glass’s office.   
“Of all the places he picked, why here?” Kondraki questioned.   
“We can ask him when we have him contained.” Gears spoke.   
“Can I go over?” 999 asked looking in the room.   
“Yes, just be careful. We do not want to scare him.” Gears answered. The three walked in careful of where they stepped, though that didn’t stop 999’s excitement. Kondraki looked over As the trio made their way around the desk, they opened the closet doors to find Luaran curled up in a ball atop some pants and shirts. His wings wrapped around himself as his tail curled around him. A shirt or two was draped over his horns.  
“Ooh, shiny.” 999 spoke as he looked at Luaran’s scales.   
“Yes, they are shiny, 999, why don’t you give him a hug?” Kondraki suggested.  
SCP-5923-A was recontained.


	4. Crapbag

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Staff tries to speak with one of the newly contained SCPs as they do with most. Kondraki gets to meet another Horsemen.

SCP-5934 was interesting to say the least. From the way he spoke to the fact that both he and Ichabod appeared to have some sway in regards to SCP-5923-A and B and SCP-5926-A and B. Given he was less hostile to the staff it was decided that Danielson would conduct the interview. 

“For the record please state your species.” Danielson spoke. 

“Like, no way, dude. I, like, enjoy my freedom, man.” He answered. 

“59-”

“You can call me Shawn, dude, no need to call me, like, a number.”

“... Alright, Shawn, why don’t you or anyone in your group want to cooperate with us?”

“Look man, your one agent was like unnecessarily aggressive towards Luaran, like, not cool man. Kid’s been through enough.”

“And what has he been through?”

“No way, dude, it’s like, not my place to tell you anything in regards to, like Luaran’s past.” Shawn replied. 

“Look, we just want to understand them better.”

“Well then you better get them to, like, trust you, dude.”

  
  


This was how the days went with Shawn. He willingly talked about himself, but still kept things close to the vest and refused to speak about his group. 

“So we still don’t know what he is or where he’s from?” One of the higher ups spoke. 

“Have we figured out what SCP-5923-A and B are?” Another asked. 

“Yes and no.”

“Perhaps Dr. Kondraki would have better luck in getting him to talk.” Gears suggested. 

“He couldn’t get SCP-5923-A to speak and let SCP-5923-B escape and take Foundation property.” Goodman spoke. Normally he wouldn’t dare challenge the older Kondraki, but his teammate lost her brother and he knew how close the siblings were. 

“If you’re referring to Agent Durham, let me remind you that he aggravated Luaran. Had he not touched him, he might have spoken to us.” Kondraki spoke.

“And SCP-5923-B?”

“I didn’t let her escape by choice.” Kondraki glared at Goodman. There was an awkward and tense silence that hung in the air, it was only interrupted by a guard. 

“Something is wrong with SCP-5934.”

“What?” Kondraki asked. 

“I’m not sure, I think it’s best you come see for yourself.” The guard spoke. Gears, Kondraki, and Goodman followed after the guard as he ran back to Shawn’s containment cell. 

Upon entering the cell they found Shawn lying on the floor near the door, what skin he had exposed looked severely dried out. One of the guards was already kneeling next to him.

“Shawn?” The guard asked. He didn’t respond. 

“You get him in his bed and you get a med team over here.” Kondraki ordered. The guards nodded, one walking out, already paging for a med team. The other carefully lifted Shawn up, getting his feet under him. 

“Alright Shawn, let’s go.” The guard started ushering the red head to his bed, only for the man to grasp the kevlar vest and almost falling back down. Then he started gasping for breath. At least he would be if he wasn’t just opening and closing his mouth. “What the fuck?! Shawn?” The guard looked to the group. 

“Goodman, you said you and your team were subdued by him singing right?” Gears questioned.

“Yes, why?” A light seemed to go off in Kondraki’s head as he walked over, grabbed Shawn, picked him up bridal style, and left the room. 

“Where are you going?” Goodman demanded. 

“You’ll see.” He called back, quickening his pace. The group followed after him wondering where he planned on going. He rounded the corner and stopped at the showers, kicking the door open he walked in placing Shawn on the floor under one of the shower heads. 

“Dr. Kondraki, this is hardly-”

“Shut the fuck up.” Kondraki ordered as he turned on the shower head. Cold water rained down on Shawn who remained still for all of five seconds before he started breathing again, quite audibly. 

The room was silent, save for the running water hitting Shawn. That was when a change began to occur in the now confirmed merman. Red hair darkened to a jet black, his eyes were covered with a white blindfold and a more complex circlet replaced the one he wore. The individual sat up before turning off the water. He turned to Kondraki. 

“You got a towel I can use?” The individual asked, the tone different from Shawn’s. Gears nodded to one of the guards to grab a towel. 

“Who the hell are you?!” Goodman demanded. The individual shook his head as he wrung out his hair. 

“Still upset about your agent’s brother? Understandable, I get the same way when one of my own is killed. However, had he not provoked War’s vessel, Braveheart would have answered your questions.” 

“What’s your name?” Kondraki asked as a guard handed the person a towel. 

“Thank you.” He spoke before looking to Kondraki again, “I am Conquest. You must be Kondraki. War and Death seem to think quite highly of you. As do Braveheart and Rambo.”

“And those two are?” Gears inquired. 

“SCP-5923-A and B. I’m sure you can deduce who is who. Thank you by the way, for saving my vessel. You’ve dealt with Merfolk before?”

“Unfortunately.” Kondraki answered. 

“Sorry to hear that. Anyway, Shawn’ll be good for the next few weeks, we can go back to my cell.”

“Just like that?” Goodman questioned. 

“Listen, you have one of the Horsemen willing to stay where you want them to.”

“Will you answer our questions?”

“If they pertain to me yes. If my siblings or their vessels wish to answer your questions they will.” Conquest answered. The White Horseman, Conquest, was brought to their cell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it’s taken me a hot minute to update this. I’ll try and get the ball rolling on this a bit more. Thank you everyone who’s been reading this. It means the world to me. I hope you have a stellar existence.


	5. Boy, That Sure was Weird

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pestilence’s vessel goes through another interview before Pestilence gets to see a familiar face. Thanks for reading this, means the world to me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pestilence meets the Cure... he’s not impressed.  
> Brief gore happens, a character cuts into their own face, I don’t go into detail, but I’d rather be safe than sorry ya know?

SCP-5926-B stood at 185 cm (6”1’), medium length chestnut brown hair, and honey brown eyes. The robes he wore were blue with white accents, hilariously enough he wore a pair of black converses under the robe. Like the rest of his group, the young man didn’t talk a whole lot to those who interviewed him. 

“Doctor.” SCP-5926-B greeted. 

“5926.”

“Can you just call me Lucas? Or literally anything that doesn’t make it sound like I’m a prisoner here?” The brunet asked. 

“I will take it up-”

“Listen if you tell me you’re going to take it up with your bosses again I’m gonna pull a Karen. I don’t see the harm in you calling me by my name, you’re a bunch of heartless pricks anyway. Not like any of you really care.” Lucas had been separated from his twin and his friends for a while now, the higher ups undoubtedly trying to figure out what to do with them. Did they even see them as people?

“My…”

“Yeah your hands are tied. Let’s just get this song and dance done with, ask your questions.” 

“How do you know I have questions?”

“I haven’t answered any for the duration of us being contained and it’s your job as a scientist here to learn and understand what it is that I can do and whether or not I’m a threat to your people.” Lucas answered. 

“So you’re not human?”

“By definition, yes I’m human. Am I a human from Earth? No. Will I tell you where I’m from? Maybe in the future.”

“Why are you and your group so against answering our questions?” 

“Well first off, you kidnap two of our friends, who don’t take captivity too well, on top of that one of your guys decided to threaten Luaran and I know I’m not the only one who’s stated this to you guys. So first impressions of you lot hasn’t been that great to be honest.” Lucas explained as he folded his arms across his chest. 

  
  


The two sat in silence for a moment before the doctor spoke again. 

“You and your friends have interesting jewelry. How did you come across it?”

“I can’t speak for the others, but this was an heirloom my parents tried to kill me with.” Lucas looked away, not wanting to delve deeper into that than what he’d already said. 

“That must have been upsetting. Your own parents trying to kill you.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Lucas replied. He never liked talking about his parents let alone what happened to him growing up. He still had nightmares about losing his animals or familar. His parents were persistent in their dislike towards him and even going as far as to harm the animals he was caring for. He shook his head as if that would erase the bad memories that started to surface. 

“You okay, 5926?” The doctor asked. 

“Yeah, just can we move on?”

“Why don’t we talk more about your locket?”

“I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” Lucas replied. The doctor nodded. 

“Alright we’ll get to that later. We found items on your person. Specifically this.” The doctor pulled out a flat jasper stone, it looked a bit worn down in the center like someone had run a thumb over it repeatedly over the years, and set it on the table. He watched as Lucas’s hand shot out and grabbed the stone. “So what is?”

“A talisman in honor of Daxdona.”

“Who is that?” 

“My patron goddess.” Lucas explained, a smile grew on his face at the thought of her. 

“What is she known for?” 

  
  


Lucas was about to answer when the door to his cell began to rattle violently. Lucas jumped back, his chair falling down. 

“What the hell is going on?!” Lucas questioned. The alarm for containment breaches went off and the door continued to shake. “Dude what the fuck?!”

“Sounds like a containment breach.” The doctor spoke. 

“Well what do we do?” 

“Just stay in here.”

“I wasn’t talking to you.” Lucas spoke. With a wave of his hand a knife appeared.

“Lucas what are you doing?” Number, name? What was the point if it he was going to possibly die? The door rattled more as Lucas began to cough and choke on something. He raised the blade to his face and began to cut into his right cheek before doing the same to the left. A gas mask began to cover his mouth and nose as his skin took on a sickly tone. His brown hair dampened and clung to his head as it turned white. The doctor backed away slowly keeping his eyes on the being in front of him. The door burst open, revealing SCP-049. “Oh shit!” 

“YOU!” SCP-049 shrieked. 

“Ah, yes, Doctor. Hello.”

“Do not ‘Hello’ me like we are fellow colleagues! You are the Pestilence and I am the cure!” The being began to laugh. The doctor stayed frozen, he didn’t want to draw attention to himself especially if he was in the presence of both 049 and Pestilence itself.

“If you are the cure you are a very poor one my dear Doctor.” 049’s hands balled into fists at the insult. “Well come on now my dear Doctor, if you are the Cure come cure my vessel.” Pestilence raised a hand summoning a bow and a quiver of arrows before shooting the cameras in his vessel’s cell. 

  
  


Those tasked with containing SCP-049 didn’t know what to expect when they entered SCP-5926-B’s cell; the doctor interviewing 5926-B dead, Pestilence dead, or more specifically 5926-B dead. What they got was a room filled with varying diseases and the doctor who was holding the interview with SCP-5926-B in what appeared to be the only uncontaminated spot. 5926-B and 049 were still fighting, 5926-B firing arrows at the other who dodged the disease ridden arrows. 

“We have them in sight. Gas ‘em.” A hiss sounded through the vents in 5926-B’s room, the familiar scent of lavender danced in the air. Both SCPs stopped what they were doing. 

“Well my dear Doctor. This is where we part ways. Maybe next time. Good day.” With that Pestilence disappeared. The task force called in 5926-B’s disappearance before recontaining 049 and helping the doctor leave the cell. They found 5926-B with his twin, 5926-A, his appearance looking less sickly, how he was when he was before he’d turned into Pestilence. 

  
  


Due to the amount of disease that contaminated 5926-B’s cell and confirmation that placing him back into the cell would cause him to become ill they allowed for SCP-5926-A and B to share a cell while 5926-B’s was sterilized.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thank you so much for reading this. I’m gonna be working on another Dioglass fic, might include King. If you haven’t read my other stuff and you like what I’ve written here check em out. Hope you guys have a stellar existence!


	6. The Glass Knife

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Glass gets to learn a little bit more about Death’s vessel.

Glass sat in his office, going through his notes and paperwork for a third time. He was on the third page when he heard a knock. 

“Come in!” He called. Glass looked up and was met with one of the researchers tasked with watching SCP-5923-B.

“We need your help, Dr. Glass. 5923-B is in a distressed state. Can you come talk her down?” The guard asked. Glass was already on his feet.

“Sure. Do you know what happened before she became distressed?” Glass questioned as he headed to the door, the guard following after. 

  
  


“She was sleeping, our guess is she was having a nightmare and woke up.” They explained as they continued to walk to the cell. 

“Has she said anything to anyone?” The guard shook his head. 

“Nothing. Her eyes shot open and she scrambled onto the floor and into the corner.” Glass nodded. 

“We were hoping you could get her to open up.” They stopped at the door, Glass braced himself as the door opened. He wasn’t sure what to expect with 5923-B, she or more so Death managed to break into Kondraki’s house, drug him, and leave his home undetected. Some would think this was another ruse to attempt an escape, and maybe it was, but when Glass looked in and saw her curled in a corner of the room, trembling and confused, the healer instincts took over.

  
  


He carefully walked into the cell, the door closing behind him. 

“Zartari?” He carefully called out to her as he moved closer. She gave no acknowledgement of hearing him, when her eyes landed on him however he watched as she shrunk away, her trembling increasing. She averted her gaze from him as she bit into her arm. “Whoa, hey, don’t do that.” He moved closer to stop her, just to get her to open her mouth when a small whimper came from her. He froze where he was, realization setting in that she was afraid of him, or at the very least he looked similar to whoever was the cause of her fear. “Zartari? My name is Dr. Simon Glass, I’m here to help. Do you understand what I’m telling you?” He saw her nod her head. She’d stopped biting herself, her teeth leaving indentations on her skin, she didn’t draw blood fortunately. He watched her look around the area, around him. “What are you looking for, Zartari?” 

“I speak?” She spoke, her eyes still to the ground, her body still shaking. Glass raised an eyebrow. He’d seen and heard interviews involving 5923-B and she never spoke in broken English, let alone ask if she could speak. 

“Yes, you can talk.” Glass assured her. 

“I look fer tool.” She explained. He raised an eyebrow, a sick feeling beginning to pool in his stomach. 

“Why are you looking for a tool?” 

“I nae quiet. I hae ta be punished.” Glass’s eyes widened in terror, another sick feeling washing over him. 

“No, no, you aren’t being punished for having a nightmare. Is it okay if I hug you?” She nodded her head. Glass carefully moved closer to her before pulling her into a warm embrace. 

  
  


The two stayed that way for a while before the smaller of the two stopped shaking but still looked confused. “Zartari?”

“... Wha’ happened? Why are we hugging?” There was no anger in her tone, she just let go of Glass, her face blushing from embarrassment. “Did I say anyt’in’ weird?” She added. 

“You had a nightmare that left you highly distressed so the guards came and got me. When I came in you were over here trembling. As I got closer you made yourself smaller. You bit yourself in the arm and said that you had to be punished for not being quiet.” He explained as she processed all that was said to her. She looked to her arm seeing the faint bruising healing up already. 

“God tha’ fuckin’ sucked.” She shook her head as she stood up, offering Glass her hand to get up as well. He rose to his feet. 

“Did you want to talk about your nightmare?” Glass asked. 

“Not’in’ I’d say would be confidential.” She stated as she walked over to her bed. “Sorry fer takin’ up yer time. I’m fine now.” Glass nodded his head, he couldn’t force her to talk. 

“If you ever want to talk with me, just let the guards know.”

“Aye. I believe one of the ot’er whitecoats is gonna come interview me soon.”

  
  
  
  


Few days went by and Glass was in his office again. He was reading up on a paper when his door was knocked on again. 

“Come in.” The door opened and revealed one of 5923-B’s guards. “Another nightmare?” Glass was already on his feet. 

“Yes, though she appears to be more agitated than anything. We were hoping you could talk her down. She responded fairly well to you last time.” Glass nodded, leaving his office with the guard. 

“Has she said anything to any of you?”

“Sounds like she’s giving us a name, rank, and serial number. Though I’m not sure what rank Specialist is.” The guard explained on the way. 

“And none of you tried approaching her, correct?”

“If we tried she’d ignite her arms or cover them in a shadowy looking substance. She warned us to back off or she’d attack, so we backed off immediately.” Glass nodded. This was the second time this happened and while he was relieved she wasn’t trembling or biting herself, this wasn’t any better. 

  
  


It was quiet outside the cell as the two approached, he took it as a good sign. Just like last time Glass walked past the threshold. The door shut behind him and he was met with 5923-B, Zartari. She stood in a defensive position, keeping an eye on everything in the room. 

“Zartari?” He called out to her. She looked at him, her eyes red. “Why are they sendin’ in a whitecoat? Wha’? The soldiers couldn’t figh’ me themselves so they had ta send ya?!”

“I’m not here to fight you. I want to help you.”

“I know wha’  _ yer _ kind of help is and I don’t want it!” She snarled. Glass observed her behavior, he knew she wasn’t going to attack him, not unless he moved closer or made her feel more threatened than she already did. 

“Is it alright if I sit down over here?” He gestured to the table where she usually ate. She narrowed her eyes at him for a moment before nodding her head. 

“Try anyt’in’ funny and they won’t be able ta get ta ya in time.” She replied coolly. 

“Noted.” Glass took a seat, resting his hands across the table. “So, do you know where you are right now?” 

“A cell. I’ll admit it’s more complex compared ta mos’ ya fuckers hae kept me in. So what’s the plan, hm? Sell me off ta the highes’ bidder? Or did ya plan on tryin’ ta break me firs’?” She kept her distance from Glass but remained close enough for him to hear her. She continued to pace back and forth, watching him and anything she thought she saw move.

  
  


“We aren’t in the business of humanoid trafficking-” She barked out a laugh.

“Ya expect me ta believe tha’ horseshite, whitecoat?” She snarled. 

“We have no interest in selling you. Or anyone for that matter.”

“Oh, aye. Sure. Tha’s why yer people did this ta me!” In one fluid motion Zartari ripped her tunic off, revealing an unsettling amount of scars, but that didn’t faze him too much, most staff here had a lot of scars, what he found concerning was the tattoo near her ribcage.  _ Property of Anton Ward.  _ “Ya fuckers took our homes, our land, everyt’in’!”

“Um, Zartari, could you please cover yourself?”

“Why? Afraid ta look at wha’ yer people hae done? Wha’ yer kind hae done?! Fuckin’ look at me, Pureblood! Look at the scars and brands tha’ litter my body because of yer kind! I’m jus’ a mons’er tha’ goes bump in the nigh’ ta ya after all, so why would ya care about a Jex like me?!”

Glass looked more confused than anything, but questioning her about it now was not his priority. 

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for everything that you had to go through.” He watched the look in Zartari’s eyes soften, a form of recognition settling in. 

“Tha’s the firs’ time any human’s apologized ta me, Father.” She said after a while. 

  
  


Glass silently sat across from Zartari for a moment, taking in her words and the expression she held on her face. Her brows furrowed together, the red in her eyes changing to a shade of indigo, she moved and sat across from Glass. 

“Zartari?” She looked up at him before looking down at the table. 

“No, no Father Richard’s been dead fer a long time, he died of old age years ago. War’s been done wit’ longer than tha’.” She began talking to herself quietly, he couldn’t make out what she was saying, but found her visibly relaxing. At least as much as she normally was. She looked back at Glass again. She let out a sigh before looking down. “... I see I’ve gone inta my “Reasons Purebloods are bastards” tirade. I didn’t hurt anyone righ’?”

“Right. I noticed you called yourself a “Jex” and humans “Purebloods”, I’m unfamiliar with that term. Could you tell me what they mean?” 

“Jex is a racial slur where I’m from. Still nae entirely sure where they came up wit’ it, but humanoids hae a knack fer findin’ some way ta cause divide. Ya and mos’ of the ot’er whitecoats here are Purebloods; 100% human or wha’ever their species may be. Sorry if I accused ya of anyt’in’.”

“Given the scarring and markings on your body, I can understand your anger. I’ll ask staff if they can get you another tunic or if you’d like I can see about getting you a change of clothes all together.”

“If ya know anyone who can hand stitch, I imagine ya lot don’t want me havin’ the needle and thread. I’m picky wit’ my clothes.” She explained. 

“I’ll ask around. Did staff give you any spare clothes?”

“Some plain t-shirts, aye. I can wear tha’ fer now.”

“I’ll let you get dressed then, are you feeling better?” He asked as he got up. 

“As good as one can be in my situation. I’ll let the guards know if I need ta talk ta ya, Head Shrinker.” She nodded before turning and heading towards the dresser. 

  
  


In all the time that Glass and other staff have entered 5923-B’s cell she’s never had her back to them. This was progress for sure. Plus she didn’t call him whitecoat this time. With a nod to himself he left the cell and headed to his office to finish his paperwork. 

  
  
  


Another few days had gone by, Zartari had begun to speak with him more, she didn’t answer most of the questions still, but staff found her to be more talkative. She mostly spoke of the war between humans and those of her world and what led up to it. She continued to refer to him as Head Shrinker, stating “Head Hunter” was already taken. Glass mulled over all this as he filed his paperwork and looked through his notes. There was a knock on his door. 

“Come in.” He called. The door revealed one of Luaran’s guards. “Is everything alright?” 

“SCP-5923-A wanted to give this to you, said it was for your eyes only.” The guard handed him a piece of paper. 

_ You’ve been taking care of my sister for the past few weeks. You’ve been kind to her when she wasn’t in her right mind and I am grateful for that, Head Shrinker. _ __

_ -Luaran _ __

“What’s it say?” The guard asked. 

“Just Luaran thanking me for talking with Zartari.” Glass answered, handing the note over to the guard to read.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thank you so much for reading my story like always it means the world to me and I can never thank you enough. Hope you all are having a stellar existence and a beautiful night or day depending on your timezone.


End file.
